


Overheard

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with enhanced senses, what you hear isn't always what's being said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overheard

## Overheard

by silvina

Standard Disclaimer. They're mine. Honest. (What do you mean, calling me a liar? *Which* truth would you like to hear?) Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com.

* * *

Stretching his shoulder with his arm over his head, Jim reached for the door to the loft and stopped. 

He could hear Blair inside, talking on the phone. Catching his name, he kept listening. 

\--Old Jim's a pain isn't he?--  
\--Aww. Poor baby.--  
\--He's so stiff and stuck up. I think someone shoved a stick up his ass. He's a stickler for rules."-- \--Which of course you follow implicitly, right?"-- \--It's like living with an IRS agent."-- \--Poor Blair.-- She laughed.  
\--Jim wants what he wants when he wants it, which is now, and everyone else be damned!-- 

Angry, he forced himself to stop distinguishing the words and turned his hearing down just enough to hear Blair hang up with his . ..... . friend. Then he went in. 

"Hey, Jim." 

He listened hard, but if he hadn't just heard him, he could find no hint that Blair had just been saying such horrible things about him. Grunting in response, he hung up his coat and went to the bathroom. 

"Bad day?" Blair muttered to himself. 

A few minutes later he left the bathroom, having washed his hands twice to give himself a reason for being there. Blair had the game on in the living room, and Jim joined him on the couch. Trying to pretend he hadn't heard anything, he grew angrier and angrier. Finally he snapped at Blair once too often for Blair's taste. 

"Enough already! What is it with you?" 

"If you didn't want to live with "an IRS agent" then why don't you just move out?" 

"If I don't want to live with . . . . you were eavesdropping on me?" 

"I couldn't help it!" 

"Bullshit!! I study you for a living! I know exactly what you can and cannot do." Feeling the urge to scream, he took a moment to calm down. "About what you heard -" 

Jim turned red with embarrassment. He shouldn't have assumed that they were friends. Blair was in this for the dissertation. He should have remembered. "Look, if you have a problem with me, I'd appreciate it if you talked to me, before you complained about me on the-" 

"I wasn't talking about you." 

"phone. . . What?" 

"I was talking about Jim Moreschi. Dr. Jim Moreschi. He's the Dean of Financial Aid." 

"Oh. What's the problem?" 

"Just some asinine stuff about some grant due dates and stuff. A few signatures were late. Nobody cares except Dr. "Give me more." He always has to find something to nitpick " 

"You need money?" He felt awful now. Giving the kid money would make him feel so much better. 

"Nah. He can bitch and moan, but he has to let the papers go through." 

He thought of something, and he didn't like where his mind was going. "Why were the papers late? Because of work?" 

"Well, yeah. Between the station and school and everything . .. . " 

"I'm sorry." 

"What? It's not your fault." 

"If you weren't running all over the place, you would have had the papers in on time and there wouldn't be any problem." 

"Yeah, but I wouldn't have a good friend to live and work with, now would I?" 

Jim blushed again, although he would have denied it with his last breath. 

"Look Jim, I think you have some faults, but they're outweighed by all your good qualities, okay? You're my friend. My best friend, and I'd like to think I'm yours. I hate to say never, but it's highly unlikely that I would ever seriously bitch about you like that to somebody, okay?" His stomach growled. 

"Okay. You want to order in dinner?" 

"Yes. I'm in the mood for Indian." 

"Blair." He warned. 

"Yes, Jim?" Blair asked, all sweetness and light. 

"Never mind." 

Jim wandered over to the phone to place the order. 

"And don't think we won't talk about you eavesdropping." 

* * *

End Overheard by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com

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